


Small Moments

by killingsaray



Category: Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)
Genre: Domestic!Zurena, Drabbles, El Oasis But Better, F/F, curious cat, fix it fics, prompts, some nsfw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:53:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25413484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingsaray/pseuds/killingsaray
Summary: There’s always more to the story.ORThe fix-it fics based off of Zurena prompts from anons on curious cat!Part VII: Rizos is up!
Relationships: Macarena Ferreiro/Zulema Zahir
Comments: 126
Kudos: 197





	1. That’s Mine!

**Author's Note:**

> buenos dias, hijos de putas. on today’s menu, we’re serving up a series of unrelated drabbles of small moments that could have been captured in El Oasis as well as corrections to plot holes, etc.  
> some are split into two points of view, others are from shared views and they’ll be labeled as such. ✨🤍
> 
> enjoy!

_Prompt: “Do they ever wear each other’s clothes in the van?”_

* * *

**_Zulema_ **

“Where the _fuck_ is it?” Zulema huffs as she pulls shirts out of her footlocker. She’s been searching for an hour. 

“What are you yelling about now?” Maca asks, entering the caravan with a basketful of laundry.

Zulema turns and points accusingly at the blonde. “That’s my shirt!” 

Maca looks down at the black crew neck that read ‘FEARLESS’ with the characters from Frozen on the front. She’s not wearing much else, save for a pair of boy short undies and a pair of slipper booties. She wiggles her toes, causing her booties to move, childishly. 

“Oh, yeah,” Maca replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world for her to wear Zulema’s clothes. “It looks cute on me, right?” 

“That’s mine!” Zulema exclaims. “It’s my lucky shirt, and I need it.”

“Tough shit. _You_ didn’t do the laundry, so I had to wear something of yours.” Maca sits the basket of clothes on the table and crosses her arms.

“Take it off!”

Maca puts her hands on her hips. Cocks a brow. It’s a challenge.

“Ahora!”

“ _You_ take it off!” Maca commands. Zule stands to her full height. 

Oh, so she was in that kind of mood. 

_Fine_ , Zulema thinks, _I’ll bite_. 

Quite literally, in fact.

She rushes towards Maca and grins as the blonde’s bubbling giggles turn into full-blown laughter when Zulema grabs her waist and hoists her onto the counter.

* * *

_**Macarena** _

Maca is humming along to the reggaeton on the radio when the door to the caravan opens. As usual, Zulema has her head deep into a book, probably about serial killers.

“Zule,” Goya calls, “come out and have a cigarette, we need to talk.” 

Zulema stands from the small reading nook and tosses her book down. She looks around for her bomber jacket and remembers it is in the wash.

“ _Rubía_!” She says, picking up Maca’s red flannel. 

Maca looks up from the game on her phone. Zulema holds the flannel up and starts to shrug it on over her thin hoodie. 

“Zulema, it’s gonna smell like smoke! I just washed it!”

“Sucks,” Zulema says simply, mostly because she knows Maca hates when she becomes monosyllabic. She hooks the hood of her sweatshirt onto the crown of her head and pulls out a cigarette and her favorite scorpion lighter. She lights it up, looking pointedly at Maca before exhaling a puff of smoke and then jogging down the small steps to meet Goya.

“ _Elfo del_ **_puto_ ** _infierno_.” Maca huffs, eyes reaching the heavens.


	2. Habibi

_ Prompt: “How would Zulema act with Maca’s baby if she were still alive??” _

* * *

Zule avoids the baby for a long while. Mostly because she’s still weak from being shot by drug dealers until she resembled swiss cheese, and is afraid to drop her. It doesn’t stop her from reminding Maca to support her head a bit better or to test the bottles on her own wrist before giving it to the baby. 

“Stop backseat mothering.” Maca huffs one night. Zulema doesn’t take it personally. Maca is stressed. 

_ Exhausted _ , really. Zulema can’t remember the last time either of them have gotten a full eight hours of rest. Maca has been up every two hours with the baby for the last four months. Bottles, and diaper changes. And there was the first two months when she was colicky. At least that part was over. 

Zulema has been plagued with vivid dreams of Lana reaching out to hold her hand, trying to pull her over the threshold of life into death. She’s constantly jolting awake only to be reminded of the pains of life when her bullet wounds ache from the abrupt movement.

Zulema decides that the pain is psychosomatic. Not unlike the rashes she’d developed in prison whilst trying to win favor from Karim.

So, the night that Macarena snaps at her for being more talk and less action, Zulema is up, waiting. Listening. She tries a few techniques from a physical therapy book she reads on her phone. Listens intently. Waits some more. Until she’s needed.

The next morning when Maca awakens, she feels like she’s gotten a suspicious amount of sleep. And then mom guilt creeps in. She jumps out of bed and heads for the baby’s room, only to find the crib empty. Her heart begins to pound and she rushes down the small hallway, but she stops in her tracks when she hears the soft, melodic tune coming from the living room. She peers around the corner to see Zulema bathed in the warm light of the rising sun. The baby in her arms. She’s swaying gently, singing to her. 

“ _...yalla yalla habibi. Yalla yalla t’nam _ .” 

Maca watches them for a moment, then slips back to her room and finds the Polaroid camera that Zulema got her for Christmas. She heads back to the living room only to find Zulema is now sitting on the couch, the baby cradled against her shoulder. Maca rounds the side of the couch and snaps a picture. The loud reeling noise forces Zulema’s eyes open and she presses a protective hand over the baby’s head, ready to single-handedly fight any possible danger. She settles when she registers Maca’s green eyes peering down at them.

“ _ Joder _ ,  _ rubía _ , it’s too early for your shit.”

Maca grins, pulling the Polaroid out of the camera and lying it face down so it develops properly. “Give her to me. Go rest.”

“No.” Zulema denies. She looks up at her blonde counterpart, expression softening. “Just… let me hold her for a little while longer?”

She never got to do this with her sweet Lana. Never got to be the mother she wanted to be. And for all intents and purposes, she and Maca were a married couple. So, she was going to do right by her new stepdaughter.

Maca sits on the couch and leans her head on Zulema’s free shoulder. She’s about to drift back off to sleep when Zulema starts humming the soft Arabic lullaby again and then she feels a kiss to the top of her head.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lana is the name Najwa Nimri (Zulema) says she would have chosen as Fatima’s actual name in the series, so I decided to honor that here. 🤍✨


	3. Sorry, Baby x

_ Prompt: “How do Maca and Zule apologize after a fight?” _

* * *

Zulema’s been gone for forty-eight hours. Maca’s not really worried. It’s what she does after they fight. She doesn’t know where she disappears to, but she wonders if Zule’s eaten, or had a bath, and where she sleeps. 

She wonders if she’s sleeping alone or with someone else. 

Okay, so maybe she’s a  _ little  _ worried. 

So, she finds things around the caravan to do while she waits for Zulema’s return. She cleans the dishes, sweeps up the glass from the cup Zulema shattered in her anger. Washes and hangs some laundry. Then she paces.

She wonders if she paces long enough will she eventually wear out the scraggly old rug they’d found at a flea market long ago. Maca finds that in the span of two hours, she has gone through the five stages of grief. Denial that Zulema is out doing something that would worsen their unconventional marriage. Anger that Zulema had the audacity to think she’s the only one with the right to be upset. Then comes the bargaining. 

‘ _ If she comes back, then I won’t do that thing to upset her anymore’ _ , she thinks.

Depression swoops in because what if Zulema really doesn’t come back? What if this was the last straw and she’s ultimately decided that Maca’s constant nagging is just too much. Finally, she hits acceptance because really if Zulema isn’t coming back, it will help her stand on her own two feet. She’s got to learn to be alone eventually.  _ Right _ ? 

Around noon, she hears a car pull up. A door slams shut. The crunchy sound of boots on gravel.

Moments later, Zulema walks into the caravan and Maca has to force herself not to look up from the game on her cell phone. 

Zulema kicks off her boots. She approaches the bed where Maca sits and drops a fresh pack of cigarettes, a lighter with a scorpion on it, and a stack of money in Maca’s lap. She crawls into bed and closes her eyes to rest because she hasn't slept well in 48 hours. 

Zulema never sleeps well when she and Maca are at odds. And especially not when they’re apart. In acceptance of this silent apology, Maca lights a cigarette, takes a drag or two, and then nudges Zule, handing it to her. 

This is Maca’s apology. 

To accept, Zulema takes a few puffs, hands it back, and closes her eyes again. And then, just as she’s dozing off, she feels Maca’s body wrap around her own, and Maca nuzzling her hair.


	4. Helado

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this prompt actually came from Zule, here on Ao3. thanks, love!

_Prompt [ from_ **_Zule_ ** _]: “Maca says: “what would I do when I get out of jail? Eat an ice cream... and I’m eating it with someone who loves me very much”._

* * *

‘ _When you run, you draw attention to yourself_ ’. It’s something Maca heard Zulema say to Saray during their first escape from Cruz Del Norte. And it is a principle that she’s seen Zulema live by during their first year of heists. 

Now, she knows the routine. They rob their targeted establishment, stash their ‘earnings’, and then stroll casually down the street in new disguises. 

So, on one fine Thursday morning, they rob a bank in the heart of Madrid, and as they escape through the side door, alarms blaring and the sirens of police cars approaching, Macarena follows Zulema through the side door of the building just across the street. They enter through what appears to be a stockroom of a restaurant. 

Through another door and they walk into a bustling kitchen. Food orders are being shouted. Oil is sizzling. Steam is rising from both the stoves and the dishwashers.

“Oyé, Omar!” Zule calls to one of the sous chefs. He turns his attention from the blazing skillet in front of him to find the source of the familiar voice. A smile breaks out across his face and he taps the other chef, who takes over at the stove.

Omar nods his head to the right and Zulema follows him, only glancing back once to make sure Macarena is behind her. He leads her through to a small locker room where Zulema heads for a specific locker. She pulls a stack of banknotes from her duffle bag and tosses it to Omar. He raises it in gratitude, shoves in the cargo pocket of his chef’s pants, and heads out, shutting the door behind him.

Zulema opens the locker and starts undressing. She tosses a few articles of clothing to Maca. They undress and redress quickly, dumping the contents of their duffle bags into suitcases. 

In less than a minute, they are walking through to the front of the restaurant, looking like tourists. Maca in a long, black wig underneath of a straw sunhat, and Zulema in a blonde wig pulled into a ponytail underneath of a Pirates baseball cap.

They traipse slowly along and when two cop cars fly down the street, sirens blaring, Zulema points into a shop window and Maca pretends to be interested.

Except, she actually is.

They’ve stopped in front of an ice cream parlor. She pulls Zulema inside where they order and are served quickly in the otherwise empty shop. Back out on the sidewalk, they sit at the outdoor seating, enjoying their ice cream.

It dawns on Macarena that this is what she’s always wanted to do with her freedom with someone who loves her. And that, in itself, is a revelation: Zulema loves Macarena. And Macarena would be lying if she said she didn’t feel the same. She stops eating and simply gazes at Zulema. She’s looking around the street, her head on a constant swivel. As if she senses Macarena staring at her, Zule shifts her eyes back to look at her partner in crime.

“Qué?” She questions, dipping the small plastic spoon into the recyclable bowl. Maca’s looking at her with those stupidly gigantic puppy-dog eyes and ridiculously adorable dimpled smile but says nothing, so Zulema asks again, “ _Qué_?”

Maca shakes her head once and her smile widens. 

“I’m just thinking about how happy I am. Right now. Right here.”

Zule scoffs and looks away again. Zulema didn’t do sappy very well. Exposing one’s emotions was a weakness, she’d learned from a young age.

She secretly likes it when Maca does it, though. It makes her feel a little less alone in this big, bad world. Though she will _never_ admit it aloud. She decides that she will show Maca how she feels in a different, more physical way.

Zule fixes Maca with _the look_. The one that says she wants to get Maca alone. _Now_. “Let’s go home.”


	5. Feliz Cumple

_Prompt: “How did they celebrate birthdays on the run?”_

* * *

**_Macarena_ **

“What are you doing?” Maca’s voice startles Zulema, whose only tell is the straightening of her shoulders. The brunette didn’t hear the shower cut off. When she turns, Maca catches the flickering of candlelight. Zulema sighs and moves to the side to reveal a small cupcake with a single candle in it. 

“It was supposed to be a surprise, but-.”

“You... you remembered my birthday?”

Zulema shrugs. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“Zulema,” Maca says because really there’s nothing else to say. 

“Whatever. Just make a wish and blow the damn candle out.”

Maca does. She wishes for more small moments like this with the brunette. Because really... they mean more than any moment spent with past lovers. She blows the candle out and smiles.

“Happy birthday, _rubía_.”

“Split it with me?”

Zulema’s head shifts imperceptibly in the affirmative. She’ll do anything for Maca today... _but only today_ , she tries to convince herself, _and only because it’s her birthday_.

* * *

**_Zulema_ **

“Happy birthday,” Maca says. Whispers, really. Zulema opens her eyes and turns in bed to see Maca sitting Native-style on her side of the bed. In her lap is a gift wrapped in shiny, black paper. Zulema sits up in bed and Maca hands her the gift. 

It’s light. 

Zulema tears off the paper, revealing a black box. She pulls the lid off. Inside is a small scorpion, just barely one-year-old.

“Her name is Zahir.”

Zulema picks her up by her tail and sits her on the lid. 

“I thought you said no pets. Nothing to keep us together when we separate.”

Maca shrugs. The thought of not having anything to remember Zulema by when she dies is too much to bear, really. Though she’ll never admit it aloud. 

“I reconsidered.”

Zulema nods. She wants to say thank you. Wants to tear up, honestly. Because she can’t remember the last time someone remembered her birthday, let alone bought her a gift. Especially something that is so dear to her heart.

She picks up the small creature by the tail and sets it on the back of her hand, letting it crawl up her arm until it rests on her shoulder. Both of them look at Maca, who laughs abruptly.

“You look like the villain in every cartoon that I’ve ever seen.”

”Good. Then no one will fuck with me.”

”Too bad,” Maca sighs, feigning disappointment, “I had plans to fuck with you today.”

Zule’s eyes widen. “Not in front of the child, _rubía_.”


	6. Busted!

_Prompt: "Maca and Zule are about to get nasty and Saray pops up in the caravan. GO!"_

* * *

“You know, you could keep undressing me if you just stayed home.” Maca murmurs against Zulema’s lips.

”I have to go, _cari_. I promised Saray we’d go out since Estrella is at a friend’s house tonight.”

”She’s probably taking you to a strip club.” Maca takes Zulema’s hands in her own, interlocking their fingers.

Zule bites her bottom lip and grins. “Jealous?”

”No.” Maca says, and she’s not lying. She doesn’t trust Zule with a million dollars, but she trusts that Zulema won’t sleep around. “But you could do more with me then you can with any stripper.” She takes one of Zulema’s hands and slips it between their bodies and Zulema can feel the heat of her center through the soft cotton of Maca’s volleyball shorts.

Zule makes a small groaning noise in the back of her throat. She’s considering it. Weighing her options. And Maca knows. She can see the gears turning in Zule’s mind. So, she leaned in and pressed her lips softly against the brunette’s.   
  


Then again. And once more until she felt Zulema’s arm wrap tightly around her waist.

“Oyé, Zule, where are—OH-ho-ho!” Saray chortles in disbelief at the scene before her. “Wow.”

Maca is straddling Zulema’s lap, topless, her bare back to Saray. Zule looks up at Maca and curses under her breath. Maca smiles. As Saray leans against the stove and snags a bag of crisps from the counter, Zulema peeks her head around Maca’s body and juts her chin towards the door. “Do you mind?” 

Saray pops a crisp into her mouth and shrugs a shoulder. “Not at all. Don’t stop on my account.” 

“Get out!” Maca and Zule yells. 

“Fine. Fine.” Saray surrenders, and tosses the bag back onto the counter. “You have five minutes to... whatever,” she gestures to Maca, “then we have to go.” 

“Fine.”

Saray shuffles towards the door, shaking her head and chuckling to herself. She stops. “Zule!” 

“ _Qué_?”

Saray points at her best friend. “ _Tú_ uu.”

“Out!” Maca and Zule yell in unison.


	7. Rizos

_Prompt: “Does Zule ever get jealous of Rizos and Maca?”_

* * *

The night that Rizos reappeared in their lives, Zulema had taken Maca to bed for the second time since they’ve been living in an unconventional marriage of sorts.

It was a rainy Tuesday night and the timid knock on the caravan door would have gone unnoticed if it weren’t for the fact that Maca was on her way out to pull the laundry off of the clothing line before it got too wet. She looked to Zulema who shrugged, but grabbed a knife off of the counter and then nodded towards the door. Pushing it open, Maca was in disbelief. 

“Rizos?”

“In the flesh.” Rizos opened her arms, smiling wide. 

“What are you doing here? Come in.” Rizos hopped up the small step into the trailer and hugged Macarena tightly, the two rocking from side to side. Maca pulled away and placed her hand on either of Rizos’ cheeks, taking her in. 

“I figured you missed me so I decided to come and say hi.”

Zule tossed the knife back into the counter and sat back in bed, picking up her book again. 

“Hi, Zulema.”

“Rizos,” Zulema deadpanned, eyes scanning the page, but not really comprehending anything she read. 

“You two have been making the headlines a lot lately.”

Maca smiles and shakes her head.

“A heist team?” Rizos laughed. “Who would have thought that you two would’ve become friends after prison?”

“We’re not friends.” Zulema and Maca said at the same time. 

Rizos’ brows rose and she put her hands up in surrender. “ _ Vale _ ,  _ vale _ . You’re not friends. Are you two at least close enough to come out for some drinks and dancing tonight?”

“We don’t go into town often. Keeps us out of trouble.”

“That’s fine because we’re not going into town. There’s a rave in the desert a couple of miles from here.” 

Maca looked at Zule. The brunette could tell that she wanted to go. 

“It’s raining.” Was all she said.

“There are stage tents set up,” Rizos told her. 

In the end, Zulema went along with them, had a few drinks and danced in her own little world to the pounding bass. She watched as Maca and Rizos moved their bodies to the rhythm, Rizos’ hands roaming up and down Maca’s body. 

A little jealous was good, but the opponent had to be deserving enough of the energy and Zulema didn’t see Rizos as the best opponent. Yet, there she was, standing at the portable bar, knocking back another shot and trying to push away the thought that Maca just might want to take Rizos to bed… for old times’ sake. 

But Rizos had left with another blonde; a Macarena wannabe with far too much makeup and far too little morals. 

So, Zulema took Maca home to their caravan. And fucked her long and hard, forcing Maca to look at her every time Zulema brought her to climax. And the final time, when she finally allowed Maca to touch her, they came together and Zulema growled, “Mine!” into Maca’s ear. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you want me to answer a prompt on curious cat or if you just want to leave anon messages, here’s the link to my CuriousCat:
> 
> https://curiouscat.qa/killingsaray
> 
> 🤍✨ [ hate gets ignored ] ✨🤍


End file.
